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by greyvvardenfell



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-20 02:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12423471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyvvardenfell/pseuds/greyvvardenfell
Summary: After six long years apart, Zevran and Reyja finally reunite on the docks of Amaranthine.





	Home

Reyja paced, half-regretting that she’d demanded the whole day to wait at the docks when there was no guarantee Zevran’s ship would arrive, thanks to the stormy autumn already plaguing the Amaranthine coast. Even the assassin’s fervent promise, scrawled so desperately that the ink had been splattered across the parchment in his haste, would have to be broken if the weather didn’t hold.

But the hope that they would finally reunite, for good this time, after six long, empty years, was too much to ignore. She had to be here. She wouldn’t have been able to focus on her duties as Warden-Commander while thinking of him anyway, she rationalized. Reyja turned on her heel and marched to the other end of the pier again, her heavy hood drawn up against the fine drizzle of rain. The thud of her footsteps kept her company; the docks were nearly deserted. No other passengers had booked travel this late in the season, on a cargo ship no less, and the dockworkers had prepared as much as they could for the incoming vessel and were now taking shelter from the cold dampness of the morning, smoking and laughing and shouting obscenities at each other from the quays.

With a sigh, Reyja stomped back to the stonework at the edge of the water and took a seat in one of the small cafes, waving away a waiter who made to approach with what smelled like a mug of tea. Her stomach was too tight with nerves to accept food or drink, she thought, clenching her broad knuckles just to hear them pop. Besides, Zevran was sure to be hungry when he arrived. She would eat when he did.

Hours passed. Reyja kept her hood up though the rain had petered out, finding comfort in its shadow. The nervous bouncing of her leg shook the whole table, but she couldn’t keep it still. She felt her muscles grow tighter with each passing moment. Every half-hour she stood and walked the docks, feeling herself drop into the animalistic prowl she’d always reserved for stalking through the narrow streets of Dust Town in her youth, but powerless to stop it. Her anxiety grew, gathering between her shoulder blades and whispering in her ears that Zevran would never return, that he’d never even planned to in the first place, or that the ship had sunk and he was dead, dead, dead—

“No,” she growled aloud, halting the train of thought before it dragged her down further. She stopped pacing and fixed her gray-blue eyes on a single point along the distant horizon, focusing all her energy on the emptiness there. “He’s fine and he’s on his way and I’ll see him soon, damn it. He’s fine and he’s on his way and I’ll see him soon.”

The words calmed her and the pressure in her back began to unwind. She took a breath of sea air, still mixed with the dockworkers’ smoke, and swallowed the tears of frustration welling in her throat. She’d waited six years for Zevran to return. Before that, she’d waited twenty-four years to even meet him. What would a few more hours hurt?

Reluctantly, Reyja broke her gaze on the horizon. Part of her hoped that the sheer force of her will would have manifested the ship on its unbroken line, calling it to her like a beacon. _Apparently not._ She returned to her seat at the cafe and flopped into it with a scowl. Getting up before dawn had given her a headache, one that only worsened as the day progressed. It would have been worth it, and more, for Zevran. She rested her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes, brows still furrowed angrily.

Somehow, she dozed. Zevran had always marveled at her ability to sleep so soundly, despite all she’d been through. But a sudden surge of frantic activity scuttling over the docks was enough to draw her from sleep and Reyja leapt to her feet before she realized she was awake, her hood falling back onto her shoulders. “Is it here?” she asked no one in particular, not loud enough to be heard over the noise. Without waiting for an answer, she moved quickly through the cafe, onto the rough wooden planks of the dock and out to its end, sidling through the waiting workers. _There_. In the near distance, rounding the closest headland. The ship. Reyja’s heart broke into a scatter of stars, bursting in pulses against her ribs. _Zevran_. He had to be aboard. He must be.

The ship moved unbearably slowly, crawling through the waters towards Amaranthine. Reyja’s heartbeat moved to her throat and lodged there, threatening to choke her. Her eyes scanned the deck, searching eagerly for a flash of blond hair, the gleam of weak sunlight on nut-brown skin. A distant part of her mind rebuked her for not wearing her sleek black dragonbone armor, to make herself more visible to him in the raging crowd of deckhands. But she’d wanted to feel his hands on her, to bury her face in his warmth when they embraced again after so long. That took precedence, she reminded herself. _Where was he?_

There, beside the rigging. _At last._ Zevran had seen her first, even without her armor. He blew her a kiss as if he couldn’t wait the last few minutes for the ship to dock. His hair was longer than she remembered, gathered in a messy bun at the back of his head. He looked careworn, tired, thin. But the relief that radiated from him in waves was palpable even across the distance that still separated them.

Reyja elbowed her way through the crowd to the gangway just as it was lowered. Zevran had done the same and barely waited for the worn wood to be secured before he was half-running down it, as light on his feet as ever, with the small bag of belongings that had made it through the years flopping against his back with each step.

They caught each other at the end of the ramp. Zevran pressed his nose into Reyja’s hair, greedily inhaling the scent of her as he held her close. Reyja nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder, her eyes shut tight against the flood of tears she couldn’t hope to hold back any longer. Carefully, Zevran maneuvered them towards the edge of the pier to make way for the mildly amused dockworkers.

“Oh, _mi amora_ , my Reyja,” he murmured, smiling through tears of his own. “I thought of so many things to say when I finally returned to you, but now that I am here, they all seem so… inadequate.”

Reyja laughed gently, then sniffled. “You don’t have to say anything, Zev. It’s enough that you’re back, that you’re home.”

“I will not leave you again, I swear it.”

“Good.”

They stood together, wrapped in each other’s arms, speaking volumes without saying another word.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Fictober prompt, "In the distance."


End file.
